He ordered that Edward's day should begin at seven with lessons covering such subjects as French, Latin, Greek, Cosmography, Penmanship, Writing, and Drawing. Active pursuits like fencing and horsemanship were deliberately omitted. Smiling to himself, Burghley laid his pen aside, confident that Edward would be too busy to trouble him further.
-:-:-
Isolated from normal family influences, Edward did indeed bury himself in books and study. At first, he amused himself writing tirades against Burghley, which he stored under lock and key in his writing box.
Soon, Edward moved beyond merely unburdening himself to crafting a wide range of stories and poems. Ever since his father's death, sleep had become a rare, precious gift and he spent many long nights writing, using candles he kept hidden from Burghley.
Alone in the bookroom, Edward learned to be content and even to prosper in his own company. Bookrooms were only just becoming fashionable, and Burghley, as befitted his high rank, had created one of the finest in England.
Ancient scrolls and parchments lay scattered amongst a vast collection of maps and books. Edward discovered the riches of Chaucer, Copernicus, Cicero, Plutarch, and Plato gathering dust on Burghley's shelves. He was sustained by a vivid inner world peopled with these giants.
After 6 months or so, the Earl embarked on a detailed history of the Oxfords. He began with Aubrey de Vere's arrival in England from France, shortly before William the Conqueror. Aubrey earned great favor when he supported William's invasion in 1066. His grandson became the first Earl of Oxford.
Edward originally conceived of this family history as an epic poem. But, as he pushed his pen across the pages, the poem grew into a series of stage plays, which Edward imagined being performed at Castle Hedingham.
Delving deeply into English history, Edward was delighted to discover that he was by no means the first Oxford to chafe at the restrictions of authority. The third Earl, for example, had helped force King John into signing the Magna Carta. The twelfth Earl had been executed on Edward IV's orders. His son escaped to the Continent where he lived as an outlaw. In 1485, the thirteenth Earl returned at Henry Tudor's side, and engineered Richard III's defeat at the Battle of Bosworth Field.
Edward spent hours strutting around acting out his ancestors' heroic achievements to the unmoved walls. He became his own best audience. The young Earl was also his own harshest critic. No matter how Edward pored over his lines, he always ended up dissatisfied with these early plays. They stayed locked away, well out of his guardian's reach.
-:-:-
Whenever Burghley traveled out of London with the Queen, Edward was free to explore the house and its large estate. A keen rider, he spent much of this time in the saddle. By not standing on his rank, the Earl quickly made himself popular amongst the stable boys and grooms. Alerted to Edward's wanderings, Burghley appointed Hugh Brincknell, one of his household spies to watch him.
Every Sunday morning, the family and a small army of servants assembled under the Banquet Hall's carved hammer-beam roof. Here, Burghley's piety prevailed upon him to read several lengthy passages from his Bible. Few members of the household relished this pretentious ritual. The stable boys in particular tended to shift their feet around restlessly. Several even dared to look as if they'd rather be elsewhere.
Burghley's voice would gain momentum as the gospel took hold of him. At times, unable to contain himself, he would stalk up and down, gesticulating with his free hand, as if hammering home Biblical lessons to an appreciative audience of thousands.
Like everyone else, Edward was obliged to attend this spectacle. Unlike the others, he viewed it with an actor's eye, as a performance to be mimicked.
-:-:-
Although Burghley preferred to conduct official business from the Lord Chamberlain's Building, he also met secretly with spies at Burghley House. One of his most trusted court contacts was the flirty Phoebe Holwick. A maid of honor to Queen Elizabeth, Phoebe was tall with wide hips and a husky voice.
One Sunday, following the morning reading, Burghley met with Phoebe in his paneled office at Burghley House.
"Phoebe, of all my many titles and positions, I think Master of the Royal Wards may yet prove the most profitable. I want you to find me more orphaned children from among the old nobility."
"You intend to house more royal wards?"
"Precisely."
"But, I thought you detested your ward. Last week, you told me that he was 'Satan's spawn.'"
"Oxford's an impudent brat, but the liberal neglect with which he treats his own riches are more than adequate compensation."
"The young Earl may be filling your purse now milord, but what happens when he realizes his holdings have been diverted to your accounts? Won't he make trouble?"
"Like any true nobleman, Oxford has no patience with financial matters. Last year, he spent a king's ransom on clothes alone."
"With your tailors, I trust."
"Of course, Phoebe. An Earl must always look his best, even if he's only rotting in the bookroom."
They both laughed.
"You can trust your middlemen?"
"Self-made, one and all. They hate the old families as much as you and I hate them."
"Although he neglects his accounts, Oxford's no fool. Even he's bound to notice when all his money's gone."
"Before he assumes his majority, I'll dispatch him to fight somewhere. If England's enemies don't kill him, some battlefield pestilence will."
"Best do it before he can marry and father an heir."
"Of course, Phoebe. Now, what other rich families have fatherless children in need of firm guidance?"
"Well, I've heard whispers that old Lord Somerset..."
Phoebe broke off as Hugh Brincknell hurried into the study.
"Beggin' your pardon, milord..." Burghley rendered the man silent with a raised hand.
"Excuse us, Phoebe. We'll continue this next week."
"Of course, milord," said Phoebe. She curtseyed and left.
"The stables, milord."
-:-:-
Brincknell led his master to the stables. Peeping inside, the Lord Chamberlain saw Edward busily imitating Burghley's morning reading, much to the delight of 20 or so stable boys. Red-faced with anger, Burghley stepped into the stables.
Edward had his back to the stable door so, unlike his horrified audience, he failed to notice the Lord Chamberlain's entrance. Holding an open Bible, the Earl raised a leg high in parody of Burghley's restless pacing. Losing his balance, he staggered backwards and toppled over a bale of hay. The Bible flew from Edward's hand, sailed through the air and landed at Burghley's feet.
Those near the back took advantage of this brief distraction to slip quietly out of the stable's rear door. Clambering back to his feet, Edward surveyed the depleted audience. Stable boys struggled to conceal their emotions. Turning, Edward glanced over his shoulder towards the stable door and Burghley's wrathful gaze.
"Edward, I'd like a word with you in my office, now. The rest of you, attend to your duties!" As the stable boys scrambled for exits, Burghley scooped up Edward's Bible, carefully dusted it off and carried the leather-bound volume out of the stable.
-:-:-
The battered Bible lay on Burghley's desk like an exhibit at a trial. Edward stood beside the desk, watching as the Lord Chamberlain paced the room.
"You were encouraging common stable boys to laugh at me!"
"It was just a comic act..."
"Now I'm fully aware that you think